Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I turned the page and was disappointed to see just another healing spell. And another and another—wow, she kept on working right up until the last! Corinne was definitely a fighter.
“What’s all this?” Avery demanded peevishly. “Where’s the next journal entry? I have to know what happens!”
“Take it easy,” I said. “I’m sure we’ll find out in just a min—”
I stopped abruptly because I had come to a new entry—one written entirely in red.
Not a faded red, like the rest of the ink in the book was faded. No, this red was rich and vibrant—as crimson as newly spilled blood. It blazed off the ancient parchment page, the letters almost glowing. The first three words read:
“He has come.”
66
“We are saved,” the entry went on and the handwriting was much stronger now, still in that glowing, vibrant red. “He has come and saved us.”
“He, who?” Avery demanded.
“Keep reading,” I said and then took my own advice.
“He is one of Night’s People—a Nocturne, as they call themselves,” Corinne’s journal entry went on. “I was frightened of him at first but he told me had had dreamed of me and come a long way to find me. He has surpassing long teeth—fangs almost, like a beast of the forest. He used them to bite his own wrist and then he gave to me of his blood saying, ‘Drink and be healed.’”
“Can Nocturne’s cure illness with their blood?” I asked Avery, looking up.
He shrugged. “I suppose if it was one of their hereditary gifts. Though I’ve never heard of one who could do it—it must be a rare ability.”
We both looked down to read some more.
“He is both fair and dark with skin as pale as milk and hair like the sky at midnight,” Corinne had written. “His eyes are silver ringed in deepest black and they glow betimes.”
I felt my heart catch in my chest.
“Griffin,” I whispered. “It’s like she’s describing Griffin!”
“Well, to be fair, lots of Nocturnes have black hair,” Avery said, but I thought he looked a bit shaken. The description of the Nocturne’s eyes was really exactly like Griffin’s. “Oh look,” he continued. “It seems that your ancestor had a thing for her Nocturne too.”
“He is my own dear love,” Corinne had written. “He has said that he will be my Blood Knight and I shall be his Witch Queen, just as in the days of old. I have taken his mark and have marked him in my turn. The spot where his blood entered my flesh glows like a star at my forehead when he touches me. And when we come together, I feel my power multiply and grow as never before! Indeed, I no longer need to work spells at all—I need only prick my finger and let a single drop of blood fall to bend the elements to my will. Truly I am most blessed by the Goddess.”
“Just like Griffin and me!” I exclaimed, looking up at Avery again. This time, he didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t spooked.
“This is getting weird, Megan,” he murmured in a low voice. “It’s almost like you’re repeating your ancestor’s life or something.”
“Except I didn’t have to get the plague to meet Griffin,” I said.
“Yes, but your life was threatened—by Sanchez,” he pointed out. “And then you marked each other…and you’ve been doing Blood magic. Just like Corinne Latimer—so weird!”
“It could just be a coincidence,” I said doubtfully.
Avery snorted. “Yeah, right. When magic is involved, coincidence flies right out the window. So what comes next? Did they live happily ever after?”
“Let’s find out,” I said, though I didn’t see how it was possible. After all, at some point Corinne and the Windermere Coven had enacted the Edict and also banned all Blood magic. I didn’t see how she could have stayed with her Nocturne lover after that.
But when I turned the next parchment page, there was nothing written. And there was nothing on the next one or the next or the next. I flipped and flipped but I couldn’t find a single other entry or spell or drawing.
There was no ending—every single page to the very end of the grimoire was blank.
67
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Avery exclaimed, as I flipped through the book. “Where’s the last part? I hate novels that end on a cliff-hanger!”
“It’s not a novel—it’s my ancestor’s life,” I reminded him, but I was upset myself. It sucked not knowing what had happened next. I had really begun identifying with Corinne—almost feeling like I knew her. And now she—or rather her grimoire—was leaving me hanging.
Forgetting to be as careful as I should in my irritation, I pressed my fingers to the fragile parchment instead of just touching the edges of the page. To my dismay the pad of my index finger—which was still oozing just a little from the small wound I had made to open the lock—left a crimson print on the upper left-hand corner of a page.